The portal didn't just appear out of nowhere; it was a mathematical certainty.
The presence of the blond group—those elite explorers—was the smoking gun. They wouldn't be loitering in the dregs of the first floor unless a gateway to the second was nearby. I had followed the bloodstains with the cold confidence of a man who knew the map.
But I hadn't expected it to be right there.Ten meters from where I'd first woken up.
"Are you kidding me?" I muttered.
Memories of my first day—crawling through these exact corridors on three legs, bleeding and half-dead—flashed before my eyes like a bad movie. If I had just turned left instead of right, I would have hit the portal on day one. I would have had light. I would have avoided that god-awful trap.
"Sir, please talk to me," Erwen pleaded, her voice trembling. "Don't look so... scary. If I did something wrong, I'll fix it."
I realized I must have looked like a demon lost in a grudge. I forced my expression to neutral. "Don't worry. I was just remembering the past."
"Oh..." Erwen looked at me with a sudden, misplaced pity. She looked at the bloodstains on the floor, the bread, my lone abandoned sandal, and my grimace. She had clearly connected the dots, but in the wrong order.
"I'm sure your comrade is in a better place now," she whispered.
I didn't bother correcting her. Explaining that I was mourning my own wasted effort and a lost shoe would take too long. "Yes. Thanks. Ready?"
"Honestly? I'm terrified," she admitted, tightening her grip on her bow. "But for some reason... I don't think I'll die if I'm with you."
She really had a habit of over-explaining her feelings. A simple "yes" would have sufficed. "Then let's go."
The transition was a blinding flash of white, like a monitor set to maximum brightness in a dark room. – Four days since entry. [You have entered the Goblin Forest: Second Floor].
We were spat out of the portal like we'd been expelled from the mouth of a giant frog. I hit the ground with a heavy, ungraceful thud. Erwen, however, performed a mid-air twist and landed as light as a feather.
"Wow," she breathed, looking around. "That was a surprise."
I ignored the sting in my tailbone and checked our surroundings. Unlike the first floor's claustrophobic stone tunnels, the second floor was a dark, sprawling forest. The "sky" was a high, distant ceiling filled with glittering points of light like a miniature Milky Way. It provided just enough visibility to see about as far as a dim streetlamp would.
"Another second floor?" Erwen asked when I mentioned the region.
"There are four portals on the first floor," I explained, realizing her fairy education was severely lacking. "North, South, East, West. Each leads to a different biome. They all reconnect on the third floor."
"Oh! I think I've heard that!" She beamed, eager to prove she wasn't a total burden.
I stood up and tested the nearest tree with my hammer. BAM. The wood was like solid granite; only a tiny chip of bark flew off.
"Checking if we can build a barrier?" Erwen asked.
"I was. We can't." Plan A—fortifying the portal—was dead. These weren't trees; they were obstacles. "New plan. We explore. You take point."
"Me?"
"You're a fairy. Find traps, sense enemies. That's your job."
To my surprise, she didn't argue. She actually looked... disappointed? Like she'd prepared a whole speech to convince me of her worth and now had nowhere to put it.
We moved out. Within minutes, she stopped. "Trap. Under the leaves."
I squinted. I saw nothing but dirt and shadow. Erwen tossed a stone. SNAP. A jagged metal jaw leaped out of the loam.
"What do you think?" she asked, her shoulders high with anticipation.
"You're good at throwing stones," I said dryly.
"That's it?"
"It's what I expected from you. You're an explorer; act like it."
I saw her shoulders tremble—not with fear, but with a suppressed, giddy pride. I had her exactly where I wanted her. A little praise, a lot of expectations.
We expanded our safety zone, clearing every trap within 500 meters of the portal. It was a tedious grind until Erwen suddenly froze.
"Mister." She whispered, her voice dropping an octave. "Goblins. A group."
"How many?"
"More than ten. About 50 meters out. They haven't smelled us yet."
"Fight," I said.
She nocked an arrow, her movements silent as a ghost through the brush. She moved 20 meters closer, then glanced back at me. I nodded.
Swish—!
The arrow disappeared into the dark. I didn't need to hear it hit to know it found its mark.
"Grk?!" "Grghghgh!"
The forest erupted with the screeching of the pack. I didn't wait. I charged past Erwen as she loosed a second arrow, then a third. One goblin fell with a shaft through its throat.
Then they were on us. Fifteen of them—three times the size of any pack on the first floor. In the game, this would be the point where a Level 1 player starts sweating. But as they closed in, I didn't feel fear.
The barbarian heart in my chest began to drum—a rhythmic, aggressive thrumming that turned my blood into liquid fire. The fury hit my brain like a shot of adrenaline.
"Grk! Grk!" they howled, brandishing rusty daggers and bone clubs.
I planted my feet, raised my shield, and let out a roar that probably shook the Milky Way above us.
"SPARRTAAAAA—!!!"
I swung the hammer. It was time to see if the second floor was as tough as it thought it was.